


Unmei no Akai Ito ( 運命の赤い糸 )

by Ad_Absurdum



Series: Imaginary Fragrances [6]
Category: Imaginary Authors (Perfume House)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Imaginary Fragrance, Original work - Freeform, and the things you can find there, art gallery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 05:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19203157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Absurdum/pseuds/Ad_Absurdum
Summary: Notes:hyacinth, cool crystal stones, brick wall warmed by the sun, sandalwood, oil paintings, a hint of lightning and fireWhen to wear:This sequel to the multi-faceted and ever-changing "Soulmate" scent will give you a glimpse of the past that perhaps never was, the possibility of a distant future, the road not taken or the road taken too many times. In case of the latter, the fragrance will help to soothe your senses as Fate intervenes and makes your life fall apart. Please enjoy the adventure.





	Unmei no Akai Ito ( 運命の赤い糸 )

The couple standing in front of a huge oil painting were looking at it intensely, though their expressions couldn't be more dissimilar. The woman was frowning with a sort of puzzled look on her face while the man seemed to be on the verge of laughing.

"Are you thinking what I am thinking?" the woman finally asked.

"I dunno. What are you thinking, Brain?" The man lost the battle with himself and giggled.

The woman grinned and looked at her companion fondly.

"The same thing I always do, Pinky. How to take over the world, of course."

They both shared a laugh and then the man finally nodded. "Yes, I am seeing what you're seeing. No wonder at least half the people wandering through this exhibition look at us oddly."

"They do?" the woman asked, genuinely surprised. "I haven't noticed."

The man sighed in mock sympathy and patted the woman's shoulder. "Oblivious as always."

"Well, I have you for interacting with other people, don't I? You know I'm hopeless when it comes to all those weird social clues."

"Yes, I do and I still love you anyway, if that's what you're asking."

"Not really, but thanks." The woman was grinning, but her cheeks turned slightly red.

The man noticed and resisted the urge to lick the woman's ear (also turning a bit redder than normal). After all, they were in public.

"Hey, maybe you weren't always so socially inept." He nodded towards the painting instead. "Looks to me like you're doing pretty well there."

"Yeah, and I can still fake that now. Most of the times anyway."

"Mhm," the man hummed noncommitally.

"But back then I probably received the obligatory social drill in public school."

The woman moved her eyes to a different spot in the picture. "You were still beautiful, though," she said after a pause. "That hasn't changed, no matter the century."

The man turned his head away, but the woman noticed from the corner of her eye that he was smiling bashfully. And turning pink.

 _"We. Are. Hopeless,"_ she thought, trying not to smile as well.

"Well, don't say such things," the man spoke after clearing his throat. "They might go to my head and make me incredibly vain."

"Oh, you mean they haven't yet? And that you aren't incredibly vain already?" The woman turned to the man, laughter in her eyes and on her lips.

The man sighed dramatically. "Oh what slander. Please don't hate me just because I'm pretty. I feel like I need a mirror to gaze into to soothe my nerves now."

"This painting should be enough." The woman turned back to the canvas. "That lady there looks simply stunning."

"Shut up," the man whispered, taking the woman's hand and interlacing their fingers.

The woman grinned, her eyes still fixed on the painting, and squeezed the man's hand back.

The picture they were both admiring depicted - as the title informed - A Society Scene (Paris, 1873, oil on canvas). The interior of a high-class-looking dining room was filled with beautifully dressed ladies and elegant gentlemen. According to the description, they were all attending a poetry reading and music performance held by the owner of the house and his wife - a couple of worldly travellers and friends of the artist who painted the scene. It looked like they had just come back form the Orient: the man of the house was showing off to his friends what was obviously a katana, and the lady of the house was showing off to _her_ friends a collection of delicate paper fans.

There was also another couple in the picture. Both standing out from the small crowd and impossible to miss since they both wore kimonos instead of the Western garb. The man's kimono was simple enough, though somehow very expensive-looking, but the woman's kimono was painted so exquisitely the viewers could see even the tiny ornaments on the fabric and all the intricate folds of it.

And the woman wearing it was the spitting image of the man who was currently gazing at the piece of art she was residing in.

"Do you think that's your husband?" The man's companion in front of the painting was looking intently at the kimono-clad man _in_ the painting.

"My... _husband_?"

"Brother?" the woman wondered.

"Honestly, I have no idea. Could be brother as well." The man was frowning at the figure. "In any case, it looks like he's either plotting your demise or is about to demand what are your intentions towards... well... me."

It was true. Among the host's friends there was a man who could be a twin brother (and identical one at that) of the woman now looking at the picture. That man was evidently not interested in the host's collection of daggers, swords and other sharp pointy things. Instead, what he was interested in, was the exotic beauty in a kimono, standing beside the hostess.

"My intentions towards you have always been and always will be nothing but honourable," the woman said, still staring at the painting. Then she blinked as if disconcerted by what came out of her mouth.

"Good to know." The man smiled, not at all surprised by the declaration.

The similarity of the painted figures to the people currently staring at them wasn't the only odd thing. The short description beside the painting mentioned it only briefly, but also pointed to the longer article in the exhibition's catalogue which the couple bought on their way out.

And this is what the article said: _Further analysis of this particular work of art revealed a line connecting two people depicted there: the Japanese lady and the gentleman in the circle of friends of the man of the house (4th figure from the right). The line is obviously not a sketch of one of perspective lines, since it weaves and meanders throughout the picture. The red pigment and the fact that the line was deliberately placed there by the artist and then hidden under the layers of paint depicting the actual scene, led experts to believe it is in fact a rendering of the concept of "red string of fate" - an invisible line which, in many cultures, is thought to connect two people destined to be together. Or, in other words, soulmates._


End file.
